


Mirror, mirror

by Karari



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, Dildos, F/M, Masturbation, Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge 2016, Narcissism, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pseudo-Incest, Semi-Public Sex, Sex with a Statue, Sorry Not Sorry, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-17 23:44:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7290898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karari/pseuds/Karari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nerdanel likes one of her own statues more than is proper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mirror, mirror

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [merryismaytime2016](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/merryismaytime2016) collection. 



> **Prompt:** Nerdanel fucks one of her own statues - bonus points if it's a statue of one of her sons.
> 
> Also covers the Dildo play/fisting square in my Season of Kink card.

Her panting was the only sound in that secluded nook of the garden at the back of her father's house. The breeze that had rustled the trees and swayed the flowers had died down after the Mingling, and all night-birds were quiet. Perhaps they were upset by what she was doing, and withholding their song was their protest.

Nerdanel didn't care. It was too good. The sculpted thigh was warm between her legs, her own heat having seeped into frigid marble form her long grinding against it. Her juices had lent it a pearly sheen that not even the best polishing of the stone could have achieved. 

It was a statue of Tyelkormo, resting on a bench, tired and dishevelled as if he had just sat down after a run. His chest was tilted back, head turned towards the thicket at his left, his lips slightly parted. Nerdanel made to slip her tongue between them while she rubbed her wet pussy against the prominent ridge of a muscle in the hard thigh.

She had already lost count of how many times she had come.

She had started as always, just looking at the statue, caressing and petting it, reliving in her mind the long weeks she spent working on it, and the thrill they had given her. It was one of her best works and she had been drawn to it from the moment it was completed. She didn't really mind that it depicted one of her own sons: he was one of her most beautiful creations too. Her hand had found its way under her tunic and inside her leggings almost of its own accord. She found her folds already moist, and when she wedged two fingers between them they glided wonderfully over slippery skin. With her other hand she kept tracing the curves and planes of the statue, while she stroked herself with growing vigour, a very personal kind of pleasure building up wildly between her legs.

That first orgasm left her pussy wet and throbbing, craving more, so she undressed, leaving her clothes pooled at Tyelkormo's feet.

His left arm was folded on the armrest, and the thumb stuck out from his palm, at the perfect angle for her to rub her clit against it. She hooked her right leg over the armrest, pushing her hips forward, hissing at the first contact. The marble was cold against her burning skin, but once the shock of it wore off the sensation was all the more pleasurable thanks to the contrast. She drew her little nub up and down the fingertip, giggling to herself, and her arousal slowly flared once again, until at last she changed her angle so that she could fuck herself on the digit – not deep, just letting it slide in and out of her, but that tantalising hint of penetration was enough to send her over the edge. 

From there she moved to the thigh, riding out climax after climax over smooth marble.

It was still not enough. 

Thankfully, she had quite a bit of inventive, and skill to put it into effect. She had made a little modification to the statue, working with exceptional care to cut the left forearm from it. Once it was removed, the crotch area was left exposed. There too she had hacked marble away, in order to create an indenture where she could fit a sculpted phallus, itself made of marble, long and thick, with bulging veins standing out clearly along the length of it and a large flared head. She got it in place without any difficulty, tested that it was lodged between Tyelkormo's thighs firmly and smiled: the organ jutted up with a beautiful curve, exactly as a real one would have.

She knelt on the soft grass between Tyelkormo's legs and started licking it, starting at the base and trailing the tip of her tongue up to the head. She spit on it, pretending that the saliva trickling down the shaft was droplets of precome spilling from her son's cock. She imagined him begging her to hurry, and drew her tongue down to the base and back up with a slowness that would have brought him to exasperation. 

She kept licking until her pussy reclaimed her full attention, pulsing with anticipation she could no longer restrain. She climbed on the bench again, straddling Tyelkormo's thighs with her knees squeezed tightly against them. She played at first, barely rubbing herself against the wet cockhead, teasing her own opening, tickling her clit. Then she sank down on it with her whole weight, her slick walls offering no resistance to the invading hardness. 

She moaned and gripped the statue's shoulders. 

From this angle she couldn't reach its lips as easily as she would have wanted to, but she licked up the column of the neck, following the raised line of one of the tendons she had employed long fervid hours to sculpt.

Tyelkormo was even more beautiful in this form, and all her own. The fruit of her own skill, dedication and fatigue, all devoted to her pleasure, his hastiness and uncouthness alien to noble marble. 

“My own,” she groaned breathlessly, bouncing up and down the phallus, “you're always there for me.”

She threw her head back so that her own hair tickled her bare skin. She rode with abandon, working her inner muscles around the shaft which quickly grew hotter and hotter inside her. Her orgasm soared, peaked and passed even more quickly. She grunted in frustration, raising herself. The artificial cock popped out of her with a juicy sound, and she saw her release coat it from tip to base. More moisture seeped out of her, dripping onto it. 

She watched it, hovered over it in contemplation for a little longer, then scoffed and stuck her fingers in her gaping pussy. She gathered the whitish fluid onto them and transferred it to her ass. It wasn't the first time she did that. Far, far from it. She didn't do it always, but she was experienced enough, and with some gentle massaging her ass duly loosened. She checked that the phallus was still firmly lodged between Tyelkormo's legs, and couldn't resist dragging her fingers up the length of it just to feel its girth again. She could probably make a slightly bigger one, too. 

She grinned, squatted down and shifted on her knees until her ass hovered over its tip. Her mouth opened in a gasp as she pushed down, letting it breach her. Her arms went around the statue and she leaned forward, squishing her breasts again the cold planes of Tyelkormo's chest, causing a shiver to ripple through her body. She didn't stop, however, afraid she wouldn't have the energy to take it all if she did. She bore down, taking bit after bit of the phallus, her breath thinning the deeper it went. When at last it was embedded deep inside her she licked her lips and lifted herself again.

Her movements were slow, jerky, her hips raising erratically while she dragged her pebbled nipples against the chest of the statue. Her pussy kept leaking juices, and the cock felt so good up her ass. Her legs soon grew weak, but it was no matter: when she was too tired to ride she just writhed on the phallus, slowly rubbing her clit with one hand while smothering the statue in kisses.

When she finally staggered to her feet, sated and exhausted, her head swam with the excess of pleasure. Her pussy and ass both felt raw, her clit was swollen and red from her rubbing. One day she might be too tired to clean up after she had satisfied herself, but the thought didn't really bother her. She hid the phallus again in a nook of the bench and put her clothes back on, though she didn't bother to look presentable. She slid the arm back in place, strewn over the crotch of the statue, hiding the wetness she had left there. Her juices had already dried on the thigh, leaving no trace. 

Before she turned to leave, she couldn't resist giving the statue, _her_ statue, one more kiss, a promise that she would be back for more.


End file.
